This
newsletter is unashamedly devoted to truth, genius and wisdom,
which, of course, makes it totally anachronistic and out-of-fashion. Some
people even go so far as to call it "medieval" in
nature. The truths that it points to are subtle,
profound and hard to discern. They aren't the sort of
truths that you can hold out in front of everyone, as you can a
scientific result or a mathematical proof. Rather,
they are like beautiful diamonds that are buried deep within the
mind. Much personal digging is required if you want to
cash in on this wonderful treasure. But sadly,
most people are too afraid to dig, lest their whole minds cave in. And
so this newsletter is really only for the courageous few. Let
the morons endlessly prattle on about how these inner diamonds
don't exist. It is their loss, not yours. Let
them revel in their poverty. What does it matter to
you? You are a fine young explorer of the spirit! May
you go all the way with your explorations. May you
succeed where others fear to tread!

The -[- symbol will return you to this
contents table from each major section.

Buddha
means "one who is awakened." Once you have awakened,
your own mind itself is Buddha. By seeking outside yourself for a
buddha invested with form, you set yourself forward as a foolish,
misguided man. It is like a person who wants to catch a fish. He
must start by looking in the water, because fish live in water
and are not found apart from it. If a person wants to find
buddha, he must look into his own mind, because it is there, and
nowhere else, that buddha exists.

Question: "In that
case, what can I do to become awakened to my own mind?"What is
that which asks such a question? Is it your mind? Is it your
original nature? Is it some kind of spirit or demon? Is it inside
you? Outside you? Is it somewhere intermediate? Is it blue,
yellow, red, or white?

It is something you
must investigate and clarify for yourself. You must investigate
it whether you are standing or sitting, speaking or silent, when
you are eating your rice or drinking your tea. You must keep at
it with total, single-minded devotion. And never, whatever you
do, look in sutras or in commentaries for an answer, or seek it
in the words you hear a teacher speak.

When all the effort you
can muster has been exhausted and you have reached a total
impasse, and you are like the cat at the rathole, like the mother
hen warming her egg, it will suddenly come and you will break
free. The phoenix will get through the golden net. The crane will
fly clear of the cage.But even
if no breakthrough occurs until your dying day and you spend
twenty or thirty years in vain without ever seeing into your true
nature, I want your solemn pledge that you will never turn for
spiritual support to those tales that you hear the down-and-out
old men and washed-out old women peddling everywhere today. If
you do, they will stick to your hide, they will cling to your
bones, you will never be free of them. And as for your chances
with the patriarchs' difficult-to-pass koans, the less said about
them the better, because they will be totally beyond your grasp.Hence a
priest of former times, Kao-feng YŁan-miao, said, "A person
who commits himself to the practice of Zen must be equipped with
three essentials. A great root of faith. A great ball of doubt. A
great tenacity of purpose. Lacking and one of them, he is like a
tripod with only two legs."By "great
root of faith" is meant the belief that each and every
person has an essential self-nature he can see into, and the
belief in a principle by which this self-nature can be fully
penetrated. Even though you attain this belief, you cannot break
through and penetrate to total awakening unless feelings of
fundamental doubt arise as you work on the difficult-to-pass [nanto]
koans. And even if these doubts build up, and crystallize, and
you yourself become a "great doubting mass," you will
be unable to break that doubting mass apart unless you constantly
bore into those koans with a great, burning tenacity of purpose.Thus it is
said that it takes three long kalpas for lazy and inattentive
sentient beings to attain nirvana, while for the fearless and
stouthearted, buddhahood comes in a single instant of thought.
What you must do is to concentrate single-mindedly on bringing
all your native potential into play. The practice of Zen is like
making a fire by friction. The essential thing as you rub wood
against stone is to apply continuous, all-out effort. If you stop
when you see the first sign of smoke, you will never get even
flicker of fire, even though you keep rubbing away for two or
three kalpas.Only a few
hundred yards from here is a beach. Suppose someone is bothered
because he has never tasted sea water and decides to sample some.
He sets out in the direction of the beach, but before he has gone
a hundred paces he stops and comes back. He starts out again, but
this time he returns after he has taken only ten steps. He will
never get to know the taste of sea water that way, will he? But
if he keeps going straight ahead without turning back, even if he
lives far inland in a landlocked province such as Shinano, Kai,
Hida, or Mino, he will eventually reach the sea. By dipping his
finger in the water and tasting it, he will know instantly the
taste of sea water the world over, because it is of course the
same everywhere, in India, China, the southern sea or the
northern sea.

Those Dharma patricians
who explore the secret depths are like this too. They go straight
forward, boring into their own minds with unbroken effort, never
letting up or retreating. Then the breakthrough suddenly comes,
and with that they penetrate their own nature, the nature of
others, the nature of sentient beings, the nature of the evil
passions and of enlightenment, the nature of the buddha-nature,
the god nature, the bodhisattva nature, the sentient-being
nature, the nonsentient-being nature, the craving-ghost nature,
the contentious-spirit nature, the beast naturethey are all
of them seen in a single instant of thought. The great matter of
their spiritual quest is completely and utterly resolved. There
is nothing left. They are free of birth and death. What a
thrilling moment it is!

Gregory
Shantz: The truth isn't very hard
to find. All you have to do is think about it for a little while.
No, finding the truth is relatively easy when you compare it with
actually living it. There, that is the part that is
difficult.

Matt Gregory: The only thing that makes it difficult is fear for the
future.

Dan Rowden: I don't know about all this. If the truth was really so
easy to find, people everywhere would know it, but they don't. A=A,
for example, seems like the easiest thing in the world to
comprehend, but in my experience far more people argue against it
ignorantly than understand it.

People have such huge mental blocks due to their attachments,
that truth is really not that easy to find; but, having genuinely
found it, one cannot really do other than live it, because the
finding of it involves its incorporation into every aspect of who
you are. If this has not occurred to a large extent, one cannot
claim to have found truth at all. Truth is literally life
transforming. In other words, the authentic finding of truth
involves the transcendence of the ego to a large degree, and the
ego, being transcended, no longer exists as a barrier to living
that truth; it's no longer there to make living that truth
difficult.

The difficulty lies in maintaining this state of affairs and
ridding oneself of the residual subtle delusions that drag us
back into degrees of ignorance. That is, perfection is
difficult to attain.

If one finds living the truth difficult - in general terms - one
ought reconsider the theory that one has really attained it.

Leo Bartoli: I certainly wouldn't nominate this piece for Genius
News. Living the Truth is a matter of memory, so difficulty with
living the truth says little about whether one has ever 'found'
it or not.

Dan Rowden: One cannot live the truth without having found it.
Living the truth is not a matter of memory; it is a matter of the
transformation of consciousness. Without perfection, however, it
is possible for subtle forms of unresolved karma to intrude on
that transformation and effectively over-ride it to some extent.
Memory becomes an issue when one attempts to re-establish oneself
philosophically.

Bryan McGilly: Living is a matter of willing, willing is a matter of
grace. Freedom of the will refers to the ability to choose to be
empty and free of attachments. The confusion which is the
'difficulty' in living the truth is the result of creaturely
entanglements. All willing aside from the relinquishment of
willfulness is driven by these entanglements. Who knows where the
will comes from, that is not creaturely?

I've found memory too bothersome a method of living truthfully.
If people were told that, "living the truth is a matter of
memory", they must also remember not to grow restless trying
to "remember" an epiphany. Truth, as with water,
gathers in stillness, and yet would tend towards the lowest
stillness. Why trouble with memory if you are still? Even memory
tends towards stillness.

Matt Gregory: It seems to me that one has to live the truth to some
extent to even find it, or at least change your life a bit to aid
in finding it.

Dan Rowden: One has to change one's life, primarily one's values,
in order to pursue truth, but living a life in pursuit of truth
is not the same as living directly in its light. That life of
pursuit and struggle is what is at times very difficult and
accompanied by considerable degrees of angst and suffering (as
you know!).

Leo Bartoli: I was speaking of physiological health, not the
reflective process itself. One can be a fully enlightened Buddha
one day, and the next after a memory-related failure, helplessly
out-of-touch.

Bryan McGilly: A fully enlightened Buddha cannot have a memory-related
failure. He knows only what is knowable - that is, he knows his
original nature. Buddha is sanskrit for awareness, thus a fully
enlightened Buddha is the Self Conquerer, having cast aside
"this" and chosen "that". Being fully aware,
he knows him self and he knows eternal life. The prodigal Son who
has returned; the prudent merchant who has sold all of his goods
for a single pearl of immeasurable value.

Hence, Jesus in the Gospel of Thomas said, "Seek His
treasure that is unfailing, where no moth devours and no worm
comes to destroy".

Dan Rowden: Memory is not the issue. One can be a fully enlightened
Buddha one day, suffer some kind of brain disfunction and no
longer be that Buddha, but its not about memory. Such an
occurence means that this Buddha has been reborn as something
else and the Buddha thereby ceases to exist, so it doesn't really
mean anything to speak of him as a Buddha at all. A Buddha is
alive when he is alive and dead when he is dead.

Memory is certainly an issue for those who are not perfect and
therefore subject to the residual forms of karma which can "mask"
enlightenment. In such cases memory is needed to regain oneself
spiritually. One has to reflect upon and remember what one has
come to understand about Reality. But for the fully enlightened
Buddha or one who is in an unhindered state of enlightenment,
memory is irrelevant. And it is so because that enlightenment is
not a state where one's mind is continually reflecting upon or
harking back to particular reasonings or "facts" about
Reality. Such a one does not reflect on the nature of Reality at
all and therefore memory in not needed. Enlightenment is not a reflective
state; it is an immersed state; it is a state of
utter spontaneity.

If one is reliant on memory in relation to one's enlightenment,
then one is necessarily still grasping for Reality and
one is therefore necessarily not truly (i.e. fully or perfectly)
living it.

The sage does not possess wisdom - the sage is
wisdom. One has no need of memory in relation to what one is if
one is fully awakened to the nature of what one is. Bryan is
right, here - a fully enlightened Buddha cannot have a memory
related failure with respect to his Buddha-hood because his
Buddha-hood is not based or grounded in memory. It is not a
memory and therefore it cannot fail as a memory. Buddha is here
and now and memory is irrelevant to that.

Leo
Bartoli: No real problem with
this, Dan, I was refering to the gaining or re-gaining of
consciousness, as you describe here, which is the way it goes for
the imperfect man who has slipped away and must employ memory.

Facture: One who perceives the world as unreal is, in modern
psychological lingo, derealized. Likewise, one who perceives
their own self as unreal is depersonalized.

So it is that enlightenment, being a state of
awareness of the illusoriness of reality and self, is a
derealized state of mind.

Philosophizing is derealizing. For me, it is difficult to think
at all deeply without encountering such a crippling state. So I
wonder how those of you here are able to maintain a sense of
reality at such depths of thought.

What interests me is what constitutes one's everyday sense of
reality, and why derealization is a profoundly disturbing state
for most mortal souls, whereas for the so-called enlightened few,
able to be experienced as a state of profound peace.

WolfsonJakk: It is only disturbing in the beginning as your mind (emotion)
fights the idea of giving up the attachments it holds dear. Like
a heroin addict giving up heroin, it is quite painful at first
but inevitably it is beneficial to overall health.

For the few that go beyond this initial painful experience, the
opportunity to attain this peace becomes more readily available.
To deny the truth in this (usually out of fear of this initial
phase) is to accept that one is addicted to their attachments.
They no longer try to honestly improve themselves in a spiritual
way.

Dan Rowden: What Wolf said in response to this has merit. In fact,
what he said is basically correct. The key to it all, is, of
course, ego. One of the ironic things about the spiritual path is
that we are necessarily led there by the needs of the ego but
once on it, the destruction of that ego becomes its raison d'Ítre,
to the enormous chagrin of the ego, naturally enough!

But as one travels that path and makes progress - should that
progress be valid - insight brings with it a dimunition of the
power of the ego and the path becomes easier. In the interim,
however, the ego basically fights for its life and throws up all
sorts of barriers in the form of attachments and emotion and
mental blockades. This involves various degrees of suffering and
existential angst.

Whether one can work through all of that and come out the other
side depends a great deal on the depth of our love of truth; it
depends on the degree to which we posssess what in Buddhism is
called "Bodhicitta" - which basically mean an
uncompromising will to truth.

Without Bodhicitta there's little hope for an individual to pass
through these difficulties (or to even want to try). Whether one
is condemned to the whims of karma with respect to how much
Bodhicitta one possesses or whether one can will it into
existence is an interesting question and one which you, and maybe
Wolf, would like to explore.

David Quinn: Facture, you might need to explain in more detail what
you mean by not being able to maintain a sense of reality. You
use the term "crippling state" which seems to indicate
that sustained thought leads you to a state of depression or
apathy.

In general terms, a crippling state would
indicate that a portion of your ego remains unchallenged. It may
be the case that you have philosophized enough to see through the
bullshit of everything in the world, but not enough to see
through the bullshit that occurs in the depths of your psyche.
This unchallenged part of you still desires connection with a
meaningful world, but because your reason has destoyed all
possibility of that, it is easy to become depressed or apathetic.
It is only when you can perceive the falseness of this desire and
weed out the habitual thought-processes surrounding it, that you
can awake to the gaity and lightness of being which characterizes
mature spirituality.

Dan Rowden: Also, enlightenment is not strictly a state of
awareness of the illusoriness of reality. The notion
of the "illusory" state of self and reality is an
important stage of the path to enlightenment but it is
certainly not enlightenment itself because it is not ultimately
true to say that self and reality are illusory. It's not
ultimately true to say they are real either.

How much freedom do we, as human beings, really
have? Do we have any at all? Let's examine it:

To begin with, we had no say over the fact that
we were born at all. We were just flung into existence without
anyone consulting us in the matter. We also had no say over what
type of world we were flung into, nor the properties and
laws it should have. All of it was decided in our absence.

The question of precisely when and where we
were to be born, and what kind of culture we were to be born
into, was also never brought to our attention beforehand . No one
sought our advice in these matters. We could have just as easily
been born on the other side of the world, in a
primitive backwater, than the spot from where
we finally did emerge. It was a pure lottery that we didnt.

We were never consulted over the choice of our
parents, nor over the teachers and elders who were to eventually
shape our lives. Anyone could have been there for us.
We might have been pushed in any direction. I could have
just as easily spent my entire adult life in mental institutions
due to damage caused by abusive parents or teachers. Again, it
was pure chance that I didnt.

No one ever asked us what physical features we
would like to have, or what our genetic make-up should be, or
what sex we would like to develop into, nor even what kind of
personality traits we would want to possess. All of these things
were imposed upon us by evolution, from without. Plato used to
thank the gods that he was a Greek and not a foreigner, and a man
and not a woman. In doing so, he was simply acknowledging
the fact that he had no say in these matters at all.

We can't suddenly fly up into the air of our
own accord and perform a number of summersaults and aerial
cartwheels before soaring off to the nearest treetop. Nor can we
turn invisible, or suddenly expand to thirty feet in size, or go
through walls as though they weren't there. We can't suddenly
transform ourselves into a horse, or a bird, or a fish, or a
super-intelligent alien. We can't bend our arms at the places
where there are no joints.

Our likes and dislikes are not really our
likes and dislikes at all. Every single one of them was built
into our system long before we had a chance to veto them. Indeed,
we have no control over our tastes at all - in whatever field,
whether it be in food, art, men, women, humour, philosophy, or
whatever. We just like what we like, and dislike what we dislike
- end of story.

Mentally, we can't think at the rate of a
million thoughts per second, or understand every detail of the
universe in single flash, or create objects out of thin air. We
are entirely limited by the way our mind functions. We can't
change the nature of deductive logic, or gain empirical
information about the world without using our senses in some way.
We are entirely bound by the fundamentals of logic, consciousness
and existence.

So where exactly, in the light of all
this, is our will? The more we look into the matter,
the less real it seems! And if we were to take this process to
the very end and examine all of the many millions of
causes that shape every decision that occurs in our minds,
we would see that what we call "our will" is
entirely a chimera, an illusion concocted by our minds.

Whenever we make a decision, no matter how
minor and insignificant it may seem, all of the various aspects
described above come into play. Our likes and dislikes, for
example, always play a huge part in determining our choices. Our
genetic make-up and upbringing also play significant roles.
Our moods and whims, themselves causally created by our genetics
and experiences, also play their part. Even our inability to
turn invisible or fly unaided to treetops has an influence on our
decisions. All of these factors, plus countless more, combine to
determine each and every one of choices precisely. In the end,
there is no room for us to maneuver at all. It has all been
determined from the outset.

Keeping in mind, of course, that there
was never any "outset"...........

Gregory
Shantz: Is this a good thing to
have? Do you need self-esteem to become a wise sage? Educators
believe that not having enough self-esteem is a problem for young
children at school. Self-esteem meaning self-confidence. They
want students to express themselves and not be shy arounder their
peers. As a young person I never knew why I should be talking
about things, why I was so encouraged by adults to speak, and
I've always been puzzled and amazed by people who are able to do
this, especially around strangers. I think this is where people
begin to develop a "sense of self," and I think that
society encourages this because it doesn't know how to value
anything other than the self, and the ego. Because what is
society but the interactions of people? It is difficult for two
people to interact and get pleasure from each other's personality
if they don't have a "self" that is different from the
other person's. Valuing self-esteem is the valuing of the self,
which is the root of all suffering.

Dan Rowden: Self-esteem is just another way of saying "egotism",
it just doesn't sound quite so, well, egotistical!

But the fundamental problem with self-esteem is that it is
invariably built upon a false idea of the self, and is therefore
necessarily delusional.

The Master: "Self-esteem" is such a horridly politically
correct term. The Western culture out of its affluence and apathy
likes to foster this belief now that "we are all geniuses,
we are all super-creative", with mediocrity as the result.

Would it be possible to replace the term with something like
"consciousness-esteem", would that be closer to what
would be beneficial? Or is the very essence of the idea
pointless?

Dan Rowden: I think one should place value upon oneself as an
individual and also upon one's reason, for these things are
necessary for the task of uncovering the truth regarding the
actual nature of the self. But these are just practical means to
an end - the valuing of necessary tools. That is not an esteeming
of the self, which is always bound up in ego. It's inevitable,
however, that whilst the ego still exists and one is strongly
driven on the path by that ego, that one will have feelings about
oneself. That may be self-respect and pride of sorts, or it may
in fact be a kind of self-loathing. Each is ultimately as false
as the other and whilst they are an inevitable part of the path
they need to be left behind. In short, one needs to move as
quickly (but validly) from the realm of the moral to the realm of
the logical because whilst the moral realm is one which provides
motivation, it is still based in false concepts.

Without wisdom, one cannot say with any measure of validity what
the self even is, let alone whether it should be respected,
esteemed or regarded with contempt. One should strive for a
measure of neutrality with regard to self perceptions and just
get on with the job of doing what is necessary for the attainment
of that which has become necessary for us - wisdom.

Shardrol: I actually do experience a fair amount of emotion in my
life, but not much of it around here (on Genius Forum). I'm still
a pretty cold fish in this arena.

Marsha Faizi: What sort of emotion do you experience in your life?

Shardrol: All sorts of things. For example, I have a large
emotional attachment to my guru, as you might imagine.

Marsha Faizi: Actually, I cannot imagine it. Have you had the same
guru for many years or is this a new guru?

Shardrol: Same guru. I'm not guristically promiscuous. But when I
said 'as you might imagine' I was referring to posts in the dim
past when you & Dan & David used to tell me that my
inevitable emotional attachment to my teacher was an impediment.

Maybe you mean that you can't imagine how that would feel since
it's not something you've experienced. What if at some point in
your life before you had become as detached as you are now, you
stumbled upon a person who not only completely understood your
quest for truth but had been through something similar &
offered not only a kind of mental companionship but also wisdom
& insight. I don't mean offering help in the sense of "let
me give you a hand, little girl" but just someone who
understood the situation, had been through it himself &
offered himself as a resource. Maybe you would never have been
interested in such a thing, or maybe you would have listened to
what he said but never formed any kind of attachment to him as a
person.

I think we have been through somewhat opposite processes. For me,
allowing myself to become attached to another human being was a
sign of progress. My detachment wasn't a manifestation of wisdom,
it was neurotic because it was based on fear. I won't go into a
whole song & dance about my personal history but it was my
experience that, since early childhood, I had not felt trust for
another human being. For me it was a revelation that someone --
anyone -- could not only understand something about me but could
help me. My teacher was not the first person I met in this
category, but he was the most significant because I experienced
him as being different from anyone else I'd encountered. I had
heard of enlightenment but I thought it was just a lot of posing,
making cryptic remarks & smiling inscrutably. But my teacher
seemed to embody a starkness & wisdom I'd never seen before.
I wanted to learn how to be like that.

Marsha Faizi: Do you think that your attachment to him which
functions in the same way as a desire for truth will lead you to
truth?

I am not saying that I find attachment to a guru to be disgusting
because I am attempting to insult you. I really do find it to be
disgusting that an intelligent human being could think that she
requires this person as part of a method toward truth. Such
attachment seems no different to me than a romantic/sexual
attachment as a method toward knowing truth. Since a guru is a
teacher that means that he imparts quite a bit of his thinking to
you.

As a teacher, he is an authority figure. I think that I would
have a problem with that. If it was merely someone who was
instructing me in how to perform a medical procedure, I could
definitely cede to his authority in that particular matter. I
don't know how to suture. If someone experienced in suturing was
teaching me to suture, it would be the right method for learning
to suture for me to recognize his authority on the subject and
submit myself to acquiring that particular knowledge through him.
Of course, I would have no problem with that. Thank God, I would
never attempt to sew up a deep wound without ever first learning
good technique.

But I think that knowing truth is different from learning a
technique through someone else's method.

Shardrol: Truth is truth, however it is arrived at. I actually
think it's monumentally egotistical to insist that everything
originate in oneself. Presumably you find reading books an
acceptable aid. Why is a living person so different?

I think we may be too far apart on this issue to understand each
other. But maybe what I really mean is that I doubt I'll be able
to say anything that will cause you to consider what I'm doing to
be a useful way to go about trying to understand Reality, find
Truth, or whatever you want to call it. And I recognize that it's
unreasonable for me to want you to see it my way (if only for a
moment) & that my sense of futility is one o' them thar
emotional reactions that are held in such disdain here.

I think that, to a limited extent, a romantic/sexual attachment
can function as a method toward knowing truth, especially in the
beginning when there is an openness to the other person that can
result in being able to get out of one's deeply-plowed furrows
for a while. But romantic/sexual attachments usually bog down in
possessiveness. The attachment is usually less than half openness
& more than half neurosis-receptors latching onto each other.
Forming an attachment to a person who is available in some ways
but does not form a neurotic attachment to me is a different kind
of relationship. I know a lot of people will say that all gurus
do form neurotic attachments to their students, but from my
observation this is not the case.

Dan Rowden: Perhaps, Shardrol, you could direct your Guru - or
someone who could reliably speak for him - to this site so we
could get his perspective on the teacher/student dynamic? I know
it's not going to happen, but it's one of those possibilities ya
just gotta explore.

Shardrol: What is it you want to know? Am I considered to be a
useless source of information of this kind in view of the fact
that I'm a participant? If not, I'm happy to answer your
questions.

Dan Rowden: I'm curious in that I suspect, probably on entirely
prejudicial grounds, that your perspective of the teacher/student
dynamic may be far more reasonable than his.

Shardrol: I've known my teacher for 12 years & we've
discussed just about everything under the sun, certainly
including the teacher/student relationship. During all that time
I have studied him for any signs of getting off on being a guru,
wanting power over others, etc & I have not found them.

Dan Rowden: Just the label "teacher" is a concern for me.
That he accepts it means he's getting off on the role to some
extent.

Shardrol: Do you believe that nonexploitative relationships are
possible between human beings?

Dan Rowden: No, not really. Even the sage "exploits"
those he seeks to influence for the purpose he is enacting (though
he does so without ego). However, there can certainly be non-egotistical
relationships, but only between enlightened individuals.

I think there's likely to be, or may possibly be, some subtle
features to the dynamic that you are both unaware of. I doubt
that he's doing any conscious manipulation of you. However, if
he's going to use and accept the label "teacher", then
I will hold him strongly to account for everything he does.

I find it highly problematic, for example, that he would allow
you to in any way perceive him as a natural source of valid
information.

Shardrol: I'm not sure what you mean by 'a natural source of
valid information'.

Dan Rowden: The label "teacher" denotes such a thing. How
could it not? Even a bad teacher is regarded as a natural source
of valid information; he's just not so good, for whatever
reasons, at imparting it.

Shardrol: I began with this teacher because he seemed to have
wisdom. I reasoned that if he really was wise he must know
something about how to cultivate wisdom. It turns out he knew all
sorts of methods. I tried some of them & they seemed to work
in the way he said they would. Gradually I became confident that
he knew what he was talking about. So I proved to myself through
experimentation that he was a source of valid information. It
doesn't have to happen this way but I was a bit scientifically
minded.

Dan Rowden: My concern, really, at this point, is that after 12
years why do you still have any need of him as a teacher? You
know the issues. You know how to think. He's redundant as a
teacher, isn't he? Surely he is.

I can't help but see, as I've articulated to you before, the
delusion of authority creeping into any such dynamic, however
subtle it may be.

Shardrol: The use of authority in this case is method rather than
delusion.

Dan Rowden: Only where his "authority" manifests without
the imparting of the perception of authority to those he teaches.
This is why I want to know if there is any ritualised form of
reverence directed at him and whether he encourages, accepts,
expects it, etc, etc.

Shardrol: Buddhism is almost entirely about method, as I have
said many times here & elsewhere. Belief in God is method,
atheism is method; none of it says anything about the objective
existence or nonexistence of God. 'Belief' itself reveals its
essential quality of insubstantial transparence & can be used
as a tool.

Dan Rowden: Except where an attachment is developed to the tool.
Then there is big trouble.

I can accept this fellow as a teacher of Buddhist method without
a problem. That just makes him a kind of erudite technician. But
Buddhist method is not wisdom and because an imparted method
works for someone, that doesn't mean that the imparter of said
method is wise to any degree.

Stanley Fish is one of the most well-known
gadflies in American academia. He once claimed that the
postmodern literary theory he subscribed to "relieves me of
the obligation to be right ... and demands only that I be
interesting." Fish later retracted that statement, but he's
remained a pugnacious advocate of postmodernism. In the famous
Sokal Hoax, physicist Alan Sokal published a paper "liberally
salted with nonsense" (e.g. "physical reality ... is at
bottom a social and linguistic construct") in a
postmodernist academic journal. Fish, executive director of the
university press that published the journal, publicly blasted
Sokal for his "bad joke."

Now Fish is involved in another contretemps. In the current
Harper's, he attacks journalists who criticized postmodernism
following September 11. Writing in The New York Times on Sept. 22,
Edward Rothstein lamented that "postmodernists challenge
assertions that truth and ethical judgment have any objective
validity." Surely the terrorist attacks were indisputably
wrong and show the poverty of such relativism, Rothstein and
others argued. Fish has responded with a scorching polemic,
prompting rejoinders in the Times and The New Republic.

According to Fish, postmodernists don't claim there are "no
universal values or no truths independent of particular
perspectives." On the contrary. "When I offer a reading
of a poem or pronounce on a case in First Amendment law,"
Fish writes, "I regard my reading as true -- not
provisionally true, or true for my reference group only, but true."
All a postmodernist says is that "I may very well be unable
to persuade others, no less educated or credentialed than I, of
the truth so perspicuous to me." Postmodernists don't deny
the possibility of objective truth, Fish argues, merely that
everyone will recognize it.

If that's true, postmodernism's problem isn't relativism, but
banality. Who has ever claimed people always recognize the truth?
By Fish's standard, practically everyone is a postmodernist. But
his characterization of postmodernism is wildly misleading.
Postmodernism attracts controversy because its advocates do deny
the possibility of truth and objectivity. When Fish's essay is
read alongside what postmodernists have actually said, his
defence seems more like an admission that postmodernism's critics
have been right all along.

What bothers many critics is how postmodernism defies elementary
logic. Consider the statement "Everything is subjective."
This idea is nonsensical, anti-postmodernist Thomas Nagel has
written, "for it would itself have to be either subjective
or objective. But it can't be objective, since in that case it
would be false if true. And it can't be subjective, because then
it would not rule out any objective claim, including the claim
that it is objectively false."

Nagel's criticism is an example of what philosophers call the tu
quoque argument (Latin for "you too"). According to it,
subjectivism inevitably appeals to the thing it purports to deny
-- inevitably contradicts itself. This criticism appears
frequently in debates around postmodernism. Indeed, one way to
view the history of postmodern arguments is as a series of
attempts to evade the force of the "you too" objection,
by devising ever more complicated ways of saying "everything
is subjective," in the hope that some such formulation can
unleash the genie of subjectivism in a non-contradictory way.

Postmodernist Paul de Man, for example, believed literary theory
should uphold "a radical relativism": No interpretation
of a text is better than another, because language is inherently
unstable. He conceptualized his approach in a sentence that used
"sign" to refer to language: "Sign and meaning can
never coincide." But de Man's theory breaks down when
applied to his own words. They are themselves signs, used to mean
something. To communicate his method, he has to draw on the
property of language he denies it as having.

Similarly, Stanford professor Richard Rorty offers a version of
postmodernism which, "drops the notion of truth as
correspondence with reality altogether." To Rorty, the idea
that language captures objective truth represents an "impossible
attempt to step outside our skins -- the traditions, linguistic
and other, within which we do our thinking and self-criticism."
Claims about what is true are inevitably parochial and relative.
But Rorty's statement that "it's impossible to step outside
our skins" is itself intended to correspond with reality:
Rorty offers it as a fact about all people. But by doing so, he
uses language to capture something he takes to be true -- in
order to show that language can never capture anything true.

Such tu quoque arguments have been invoked against postmodernist
ideas countless times. Yet rather than rebut such criticisms,
Fish concedes their force. He writes that anyone who disputes the
idea of objective truth is "silly." It's as though Fish
realizes nothing can rescue postmodernism from itself, so he
denies that postmodernists say what they say. When his defence is
through, all that's left of postmodernism is its name. With
friends like this, postmodernism needs no enemies.

The
following discussion meanders through, initially, the well-trodden
territory of the issue of A=A and its broader philosophic
implications and validity, to a cursory, yet interesting
examination of consciousness and delusion and the discriminative
processes of mind which lie at the basis of both delusion and
wisdom.

Dan Rowden: A=A is true notwithstanding any possible ontological,
epistemological or metaphysical viewpoint. It expresses the raw
nature of consciousness.

Non Sum: Please demonstrate.

Dan Rowden: It is certain that there is something rather than
nothing at all. This immediately and necessarily brings A=A into
reality and this is what I define as consciousness - i.e.
differentiation.

It doesn't matter whether one proposes that things are real,
illusory, a mix of both or something else entirely, as soon as
one acknowledges "things" at all, A=A becomes real, and
one cannot deny this acknowledgment.

WolfsonJakk: ...and yet this same differentiation is not as readily
apparent on the quantum level. I am conscious of this fact.

Dan Rowden: The quantum realm is irrelevant. If differentiation and
therefore identity and therefore A=A was not applicable to the
quantum realm, you and I could not even begin to talk about it
because it and its contents would not even exist for us.

WolfsonJakk: Also, how does an object become completely separate
from it's environment on any level? It doesn't. I am also
conscious of this fact.

There is no absolute uniqueness. This is really a very basic
principle. How then do you purport that a thing is "this and
no other" when in fact it's roots go very, very deep?

Dan Rowden: None of this matters either. A=A does not assert any
ontological notion like "separation". It is all about
the perception of boundaries, regardless of whether those
boundaries are inherently or objectively real or not. You can
carve up Reality any way you like, basically, but the truth of A=A
exists immediately in the carving itself.

If an object were absolutely separate, how could we even
experience it? If objects are not really separate, why do we deem
there to be distinct objects? We do so because that's what
consciousness is. A=A does not assert that the boundaries we
perceive are objectively real; it doesn't have to. No individual
"thing" can exist for us without differentiation and
the appearance of boundaries, irrespective of the fact that said
boundaries are not objectively real.

This is the basis of existence itself - co-dependent origination.
Things are dependent on what they are not for their existence
because a thing's boundaries are necessary for its appearance as
an individuated "thing" and no such boundary can be
without that which the individuated thing is not. That these
distinctions and differentiations are "products" of
consciousness and that things that may exist for one form of
consciousness may not exist for another also doesn't matter. We
have to be careful not to be suckered by the notion of an
objective reality behind or underneath that which appears to us.

All one has to do is roll the concepts together - thing/A=A/existence
- to appreciate its universality [i.e. A=A's truth].

WolfsonJakk: I see where you are coming from now. I misunderstood
you in that I thought you were implying ACTUAL objective
boundaries between objects. A=A makes more sense when seen as a
purely subjective truth.

If, as you say, consciousness is based in this delusion, what
does that say for consciousness in general? Specifically, what
does it say for an individual attempting to "know" the
non-subjective Absolute?

Dan Rowden: I'm not sure why you characterise this as a delusion.
It isn't. It only becomes a delusion when false notions are
projected onto the state of things or inferred about them. In
labelling it delusional you are, to my mind, demonstrating that
you are somewhat taken-in by the idea of objective existence,
because you implicitly see objective existence as that which is
genuinely real. But that just isn't so.

WolfsonJakk: Well, for example, a analogy of a sandcastle comes to
mind. At no time in its existence will a sandcastle transcend its
"sandiness".

Dan Rowden: What I think you're saying is that existence, as we
experience (know) it, is a product of our consciousness and we
can only know existence from within the bounds of that
consciousness - and therefore what we speculate about the nature
of existence is limited. But that isn't so. We define existence.
It is entirely meaningless to consider a form of existence other
than that which we experience and define. In fact, when you stop
to think about it, it's actually kinda crazy to think in such
terms. I could say that an "alternative" form of
existence may be out there somewhere that is outside the bounds
of our consciousness and therefore we don't know anything about
it (and therefore our postulations about existence which we see
fit to deem "universal" or "absolute"
actually fail to take into account such realms) - but that would
be a foolish thing to say. It's like saying we wouldn't know of
its existence because it's outside the parameters of our idea of
existence.

You can see that we necessarily bring our definition of existence
into everything we postulate. It can't be otherwise. One cannot
coherently think about that which may stand outside of the
parameters of our consciousness because to do so automatically
brings them within those bounds because it automatically makes of
them: things (the basis of consciousness).

WolfsonJakk: As an organism evolves and begins the process of
consciously differentiating objects, at what point does the
ancestors of this organism begin to transcend this delusion of
the differentiation of objects? Does the transcendance of this
delusion render an organism unconscious or into a new form of
consciousness?

Dan Rowden: It's not a delusion, it's what consciousness is.
Delusion arises when we begin to infer inherent existence (which
begins to occur with the development of the ego - when that
happens is a discussion in itself). A person really only begins
to "consciously" differentiate objects when he becomes
aware of the nature of A=A (one becomes conscious of the nature
of consciousness, so to speak). Before that this process happens
quite unconsciously. Cows differentiate but they don't
consciously know they're doing it. This is something of a key
point: one can really only have a delusional relationship to
reality where one has the conscious capacity to become aware of
the true nature of that Reality. Delusion is actually a "symptom"
of, for want of a better word, "higher" consciousness.

In other words, as ironic as it may seem, delusion is a necessary
condition for wisdom to arise.

WolfsonJakk: Seeing the Universe as discrete objects seems very
delusional to me.

Dan Rowden: It depends on what we intend by "discrete".
If we actually mean separate things, then yes, we have a problem,
but if we just mean differentitated, then no such problem exists,
because that is, in fact, what we experience. If it wasn't, we
couldn't begin to talk about "things" at all. This goes
to the issue of inherent existence - that is, the notion that
things really are separate, stand-alone entities that would
continue to exist is everything else went "poof"! That
is pretty obviously wrong, or, at least, I find its falsity
pretty obvious, but that lack of inherent existence doesn't
impact on the points I'm making. Things lack non-inheretency as
well.

WolfsonJakk: I have a belief, based on 33 years of circumstantial
evidence, that this desk, this building, and the people around me
will continue to exist even if I close my eyes or go to sleep or
even die.

Dan Rowden: Yes, but that's not something you can know for sure. It
might be reasonable to suggest that such things will remain if
other necessary causes for them also remain in place, but what if
things - as you perceive and differentiate them - were products
of some sophisticated holographic mechanism that requires your
functioning mind to bring them to life (i.e. were basically
projected through your mind)? Can you rule that out? And further,
does it make any difference to the essential basis of
consciousness and A=A?

WolfsonJakk: Perhaps, it is meaningless to consider a specific,
unknown form but it is not meaningless to confirm the distinct
possibility of that form's existence. Columbus did not know that
America was specifically between Spain and India, but that did
not stop he and his contemporaries from speculating on the
possible existence of undiscovered lands. They turned out to be
correct.

Dan Rowden: It is not in any way possible to even think about a
form of existence other than that which we experience and define,
because as soon as we do, we do so through the parameters of that
very notion of existence and hence any such alternative form is
no different to what we know. It's as meaningless as postulating
the idea of multiple Totalities.

I'm not arguing the idea that the Universe may contain dimensions
that have vastly different physical properties to that which we
know. I'm saying that they nevertheless exist in the same way
that any other dimensions exist. Existence is a universal idea.

WolfsonJakk: How is it that humans have the unique capacity to be
delusional?

Dan Rowden: Because we have the "unique" (that's your
word btw; I don't know if we're unique in this at all, but it
appears to be the case on planet Earth at least) capacity to
reason discriminatively and thereby establish what is true and
what is false. Delusion in the human mind centres around the
notion of the inherent existence of thing, which is itself
centred round the delusional notion of an inherently existent
self, which is what we (I) call "ego". This is tied to
self-awareness. Self awareness, however, is not, in and of
itself, delusional. It all rests on what the self is conceived to
be. But it always begins in delusion because this notion of self
always begins in the perception of inherent existence - the
emergence of ego. The tale of the emergence of the ego is pretty
much the same tale as the emergence of "self" awareness
and the development of individual identity. Obviously there are a
few significant periods in a life where these things seem to
occur (e.g. a baby's first expression of self-awareness; puberty
etc).

WolfsonJakk: Where is the exact dividing line between being
consciously aware of your instinctual brain activites of
differentiation or not being aware?

Dan Rowden: The dividing line is where the mind begins to perceive
and question the nature of the relationship between self and
other. When, where and how that happens in dependent on the
individual. Most men hover on the periphery of this "moment",
which is to say that most men, at some time in their lives, if
not all their lives to some degree, experience a form of
existential angst which is grounded in their conscious
relationship to this essential matter (in short, men are able to
"stand-back" and have something of a personal dialectic
relation between themselves and the world - which is why men are
given over to a natural "systemizing" and structuring
and formalizing etc). It comes down to the term we know as "introspection".
When does one begin to be truly introspective? I don't know the
answer to that. When one does, I guess. Basically, the more
developed the ego becomes, the more this relationship between
self and other is crystalized. The more this happens the more the
ego is forced to give concretion to itself in a conscious way and
thus all sorts of behaviours are born, one of them being -
ideation. Philosophy is born of this development - one strives
for some perfect principle or system in which the self might be
wholly grounded. In certain individual cases, where reason is
applied effectively and validly, one moves along the correct
path, experiences valid insights and then all hell starts to
break loose and one is on the road to being committed to wisdom
and the destruction, as opposed to the concretion of the ego.

WolfsonJakk: Also, how then do women fit into this equation?

Dan Rowden: Hmm, I'm not sure if they do!

WolfsonJakk: Would it be the case that women actually have the
capacity to become aware of the true nature of that Reality? How
do you match your general disregard for women/femininity with
this statement?

Dan Rowden: To the degree that a woman's mind is feminine and
remains feminine, to that degree she does not have any such
capacity. To what extent women are biologically and or
sociologically "condemned" to the feminine aspect of
mind I do not really know. That questions harks back to something
akin to the old nature/nurture debate, which remains open. But
this question is very important to the issue of how the mind
becomes open to the awareness of its nature and of its
relationship to the world, which is why both myself and David
Quinn, have, over the years, placed so much emphasis on the issue
of the femininity and maculinity of mind. It has somewhat
inevitably been interpreted as a man/woman thing - a battle of
the genders sort of thing - but it isn't that at all. It is a
matter of the aspects of mind and how they relate to
introspection and self-knowledge and, therefore, to wisdom itself.

WolfsonJakk: Personally, I see women/femininity as merely followers
of their instinct, more or less, i.e. the herd mentality,
politics/grooming, self-sacrifice, etc. This element was an
essential component in the survival of certain large monkey
groups for a few million years versus other large mammal
predators. They worked in packs and in unison, not to kill but to
survive. It pre-dated the hunter and the rise of the "lone-male",
masculine qualities, i.e. the builder/destroyer, the objective
calculator, etc.

This relationship of historic roles and current motivational
tendencies seems obvious.

Dan Rowden: Yes, it does. David Quinn makes some interesting
observations regarding these developments in the section of his
"WOMAN - An Exposition for the Advanced Mind" called
"The Great Discrimination", which I'll reproduce here
by way of a response to your own observation (lazy of me, I know,
but I'm working on other things at present so I'm happy to
forgive myself my philosophic sloth). David's entire essay is
available on Kevin Solway's "Thinking Man's CD-ROM" -
the details of which can to be found somewhere here for anyone
interested.

THE GREAT
DISCRIMINATION

Genetics and culture combine
powerfully to restrict a female's ability to achieve greatness.
Although eminists like to think otherwise, our evolution as a
species has demanded that woman play a far different and lesser
role than man. At the same time, her role was just as vital to
our species' survival.

One of the crucial developments in our evolution was the
formation of the tribe. It enabled our ancestors to deal
effectively with the many hazards of an everchanging environment.
We were not a physically strong species, but we were cunning,
intelligent, and could work together to achieve our ends. Indeed,
as individuals we submerged ourselves to form integral parts of
this larger entity. The tribe can be likened to an organism unto
itself, operating as a unit under the same laws as any biological
organism trying to survive.

The individual human being, as a constituent part of the tribe,
depended for his survival on the survival of the tribe. Within
the tribe, the parts specialized into various functions. In
particular, the sexual roles divided neatly apart. Men evolved to
be the principal defenders of the tribe. They also hunted game
and attacked other tribes when necessary. Women's role, on the
other hand, was to rear the children, gather and prepare
foodstuffs, and generally supervise domestic affairs. Both roles
were necessary for the tribe's survival, and both complimented
each other to this end.

If the tribe is to perform its function, namely to survive, then
it must act as a cohesive unit. Any clumsiness here would be
fatal. This cohesiveness evolved as the emotional capabilities of
the individual evolved. Emotional cohesion between individuals to
form a functional unit had the combined effect of preserving
stability and increasing the flexibility of the tribe. Indeed, it
was central to our excellent ability to adapt to changing
conditions. But the ballast of the whole process, one which lies
at the heart of the tribe's strength and cohesion, is the
differentiation of man and woman into separate psychological
entities and the resultant emotional interplay between them.

The males, through their inquisitiveness, courage, and
rationality, open up the possibilities of great change, but it is
woman who ensures that all change be kept to a minimum and that
which she does allow be kept firmly towards the "common good".
Man is by nature wild and adventurous. In him lie the
possibilities of great creativity, but also the possibilities of
great havoc and discord within the tribe. Hence, woman evolved
with the power needed to restrain him.

Women often complain bitterly about the dreaded "patriarchal
society" and their oppression under it, but I cannot believe
that they are completely ignorant of the vast power they actually
possess in society. Indeed, they play an enormous role in the
historical process. The role of woman is not only one of
reproduction and the rearing of offspring. Equally important is
the emotional power the females possess over the males. Women are
the preservers of the social organism, and the men are tools to
this end. Thus history is as much a woman's story, even though it
is true that as an individual she was very much out of the
limelight.

Let us be quite clear here. Woman's emotional power over man does
not come from the individual woman herself, but from the social
fiction she embodies - WOMAN! It is this abstract, ethereal
entity which we all worship, not the bags of blood and guts
themselves. Of course, one look at the modern specimen with its
lipstick, earrings, dresses and bubbly personalities is enough to
make this statement seem unnecessary.

WOMAN is a cultural fiction to which all females are drawn, yet
it is difficult to state exactly what it is. It appears
intangible and out of this world, yet everybody knows its
existence and feels its power. It fuses together into one
seamless package the elements of purity, authority,
otherworldliness, innocence, delicacy, erotica, playfulness,
mystery, excitement, and power - and yet it transcends

all these elements to form a vague yet potent something-or-other.
Its effect is to transfix men and women alike, causing them to
believe it the very heart and soul of life itself. WOMAN is what
humanity values most, for in it lie the greatest emotional
happiness and comfort. It provides the irresistible illusion of
purity and rock-like security. Above all, it promises, or seems
to promise, refuge in which humans can attain what they believe
to be the highest good - the freedom from all conscience. It is
no wonder then that all human purpose, though it be multifarious
in appearance, is constantly directed towards it. In truth,
humanity stands united under the banner of WOMAN, and the person
who rejects WOMAN faces rejection by humanity. The biological
females of our species embody WOMAN to a high degree, while the
males are left out in the cold. Look carefully into this and you
will uncover the essence of all male and female psychology.
Women, to the degree they conform to WOMAN, need not do anything
at all. They are secure and passive. They need not think,
struggle, strive, and despair after this profound psychological
peace. But for men it is a matter of life or death!

It is for this reason that the woman's mind is highly undeveloped
compared with the man's. For no matter where she is or what she
is doing in the world, a woman knows first and foremost that she
is in fact - a woman. She lives and breathes in the knowledge
that her prime asset in life lies precisely in her being this
magical creature. Anything else is almost superfluous, a luxury,
an added bonus to an otherwise perfect state of affairs. Man, on
the other hand, is completely bereft of such a magnificent power.
He must fend for himself, relying upon his wits to etch his way
in the world. Thus, out of necessity, man is continually looking
at the broader picture, assessing the implications of each
situation, thinking out the consequences of his actions,
developing a consistent philosophy, and reflecting upon what is
actually true. Out of his deluded struggle for acceptance into
WOMAN, the priceless treasure of conscience is born. Though he
begins by seeking WOMAN, he ends by rejecting HER, and it is here
that his relationship to Truth begins.

David
Quinn: There is nothing vague or
abstract about the concept of the Totality. It specifically
refers to the Whole, to utterly everything. It's all very down-to-earth,
clear and unambiguous.

If my real nature is the Totality (and it is), then it stands to
reason that it can't be any specific "thing" within the
Totality to the exclusion of all else. That's why in Buddhist
texts, it is said that our real nature has no form or
characteristics, and is constantly refered to as "emptiness".
It is empty of all form (including the form of formlessness).

I AM: C'mon David, how is this any different than Bible
bashing, except of course that you didn't use a direct quote? I
mean, you could have said pretty much the same thing using
something from your own experience or referring to your own
opinions. Who cares what the Buddhist texts say? What relevance
do they have when communicating our 'true nature' to another? I'm
not trying to pick a fight here. I just don't understand how a
seemingly intelligent and supposidly sane being like you was even
capable of saying "That's why in Buddhist texts, it is said
that..."

Bondi: You fail to see that this is not "Buddhism-bashing".
That was an example, not a starting point, "to bash from"...
He wrote "That's why in Buddhist texts...", not "In
Buddhist texts... so that I say...". It's a petty thing to
nag someone with misinterpreting deliberately.

David Quinn: Bondi is right. The reason why I make references to
other people's quotes and teachings, such as the Buddha's, is to
(a) point people to the very existence of these teachings, and (b)
illustrate how I interpret them. I don't have a monopoly on the
wisdom of the Infinite. Other people have spoken very well on the
subject, so it is only natural that I would direct people's
attention to them.

Also, great spiritual teachings seem very ambiguous to the
unenlightened and are very hard to understand. By referencing my
reasonings to them, I am showing people what I think is the
correct interpretation of them. If a person graps my reasonings,
he can then go off and study other spiritual people's teachings
and see for themselves how it all connects together. It's all
about enriching people's thinking and creating the circumstances
by which they can make their own spiritual breakthroughs.

Gregory
Shantz: Why did Nieztsche go mad?
I've heard people say that it was because he thought too much...Or
because of syphilis. Did he choose madness because consciousness
had become just too painful, knowing what he did?

David Quinn: It could have been syphilis, or from being too burdened
by his consciousness, or a combination of the two. But my feeling
is that he was ultimately driven mad by his loneliness and deep
desire for attention. One of the things that Nietzsche really
longed for in his life was a philosophical companion - either
male or female. But he never found anyone. Those who did befriend
him were mediocre and unable to relate to him. The only two real
companions he had were Paul Ree (a mediocre, fawning disciple-type
figure) and Lou Salome (a romantic woman who dabbled in
philosophy for titillation and fun), and they both deserted him
after a time.

If he had had at least one other person who could have related to
him, he probably would have held onto his sanity and continued to
produce strong works. So it was ultimately despair which ate him
up.

Marsha Faizi: I think this is a very likely explanation if he was
simply "mad." I think that it is very possible that he
was deeply lonely and longed for attention. It can be hard to
live with no validation of one's ideas.

I don't believe the syphilis hypothesis. But I do wonder if the
madness may have been organic in nature. From the little
available that I have read on the subject, his sister cared for
him and he was, except for a sentence or two now and then,
verbally uncommunicative. Whatever his malady, it was mentally
degenerative to an extremely devastating point, like Alzheimer's
or organic brain disease.

There are some cases of severe depression that are degenerating
to such a degree but it is hard for me to imagine someone in the
Nineteenth Century suffering it to the point of incoherence. Of
course, if it was something that began some years before the
final breakdown and progressed, I reckon that it could become
completely debilitating. But to the point of becoming a complete
invalid -- well, it is just something that is hard for me to
imagine.

I would like to know more about it but there is not much
available on the subject.

David Quinn: You could be right. He did suffer severe migraines for
many years, which may have been connected to a degenerative brain
disease. We can only speculate.

I think he started to go downhill with the publication of
Zarathustra. His works subsequent to that were increasingly
scattered and little more than rehashes. Beyond Good and Evil was
okay, but even here one can discern the oncoming scatteredness
and desperation. A far cry from the focus and joyful exuberance
of Daybreak and Gay Science. Zarathustra was his spiritual peak,
but he obviously couldn't sustain it.

Marsha Faizi: Yet, one of my favorite works is Ecce Homo.
I realize that much of it is self parody and, being the last
thing that he wrote before he collapsed, it is tinged with what
was to come. But I think it is a worthwhile read. I could "identify"
with it.

David Quinn: It is typical that people say that he thought too much.
The truth is, he went mad because he loved too much.

Gregory Shantz: So, it's good to love a bit, but not too much? His love
of attention and companionship did him in? Explain. I don't think
it's possible to think "too much."

Marsha Faizi: It is not possible to think too much. It is, however,
possible to feel the burden of thinking; the spiritual and
psychological weight of alienation because one thinks. This is
not simply a matter of feeling "different." A
quadriplegic is different. Someone with a harelip is different. A
schizophrenic is different. Such persons have no choice in the
matter.

The alienation of a thinker is a matter of choice. One
deliberately selects to make of himself a monster; to make of
himself this terrible thing; this thing that is malcontent; who
will not busy himself with what lies upon the surface but scoops
up the dredge from the depths to inspect.

One realizes that he has made himself alien to those around him
and, yet, longs for some companionship; some validation of his
thoughts. One philosophizes with a hammer -- smashing all
delusions -- but he yet clings to some hope of validation; the
sound of a voice that could say, "I have thought about these
things, too."

I think that it can get cold out on the perimeter of thought.
Truly cold; nearly palpably cold. Loneliness is nothing compared
to the icy abode of one's self-imposed exile.

In some ways, the realization that one cannot undo what one has
done is the worst thing. Once you set upon a path to truth; to
philosophical introspection; to variance; to solitude; there can
be no turning back. There is nothing to which one may return.
There is no easy chair before the fire; no cat to purr upon one's
lap; no comforting wife nor loving child to take one's mind from
his worries.

The burden is the full realization that one is not only alone in
the world but that one is alone in thought -- such thought that
takes one further from the nest that is the domicile; the
feathered warmth of one's mental infancy; to the "airy
heights" from which one will not return; from which it is
impossible to return.

Yet, from such a height, it still possible to love and to love
too much -- because all love is too much. It is not the flight
that can kill you but the remembrance of the earth; the sentiment
of what could have been or could be.

Nietzsche's great love was love of humanity. If it was love that
killed him, this was it.

David Quinn: Nietzsche was a man of great passion, but unfortunately
it was split and directed into various conflicting aims. His love
of truth was enormous, but so was his love for attention and
companionship. This is why a lot of his writing lacks purity. He
desperately wanted to be known as a great iconoclastic thinker
and to be admired for it. He loved shocking people with his
thought and sticking it up people's noses - all of which
conflicted with his more sagely goals.

If he had directed his passion more exclusively into truth, he
may have held onto his sanity and become an even greater sage. Or
alternatively, if he had had less passion overall, then the great
split inside him would have been less dramatic, and he may have
held onto his sanity and become more mediocre and "normal".

Gregory Shantz: This sounds close to Weininger's appraisal of him in
'Sex & Character'...and uncomfortably close to my own
psychology. So how would Nietzsche have been 'more sagely' if he
hadn't been the way he was? Would he have written fewer works?
How many times can you say the same thing and make it new? The
truth is kind of a limited subject, but unlimited at the same
time.

David Quinn: If we look at the total number of truly wise books that
have been created in history, it adds up to quite a few - perhaps
over thirty. And each one of these books addresses Truth in a
different way, due to the differing personalities who wrote them
and also the differing eras in which they lived. So even though
the basic reasonings which lead to the realization of Truth are
few in number and are unchangeable, there is still room enough
for a person to put his own individual stamp on the proceedings.
You only have to look at the vast difference between
Keirkegaard's approach and the Buddha's!

So to me, Nietzsche's lack of purity stems from the way he wrote
his numerous works, not from the fact that he did write numerous
works. If he had written a dozen works of pure wisdom, it would
have been a whole lot better. But as you suggest, it might be
beyond the scope of a single individual to produce more than
three or four high-quality works without beginning to repeat
himself.

Dan Rowden: To some extent, I think one can gain a clearer insight
into certain aspects of Nietzsche's relationship to society,
specific others and the need for validation of his thought being
spoken about from his private correspondence. It's really quite
revealing. Unfortunately, not many anthologies of his work
include much or any of it.

One of the main philosophical failings I see in Nietzsche was the
lack of logical grounding in his emergence from the inevitable
nihilism of the knowledge of the death of God (objective reality
and morality etc). His emergence from that nihilism, given its
most potent expression in Zarathustra, had too much emotion
attached to it. It was almost like a religious exhortation to the
spirit to take flight into the world.

I don't think he could ever quite convince himself of the
validity of that exhortation and thereby free himself from the
pains of the nihilism. His error, of course, was in not seeing
the necessity of valuing and that one does not need any kind of
emotional or "romantic" stimulus for the spirit to
indeed take flight.

IThe Master: David, you mentioned, "...over thirty books".
Could you provide a list of recommended reading, say 5. If
possible, make them books that would likely be readily available
in a library.

Gregory Shantz: I would personally reccomend "Sex & Character"
by Otto Weininger. A university library should have a copy. It's
much easier to read in hard copy than on a computer monitor.

David Quinn: Apart from Sex and Character, which is very good, I
would also recommend:

"The Moment", Kierkegaard (sometimes known as "Attack
Upon Christendom")
"The Banquet", Kierkegaard (found in "Stages On
Life's Way")
Kierkegaard's Journals & Papers
"Thus Spake Zarathustra", Nietzsche
The Lectures and Talks of Hakuin
The Zen Teachings of Huang Po
The Anecdotes of Diogenes
Chuang Tzu
The Gospel of Ramakrishna
The Dhammapada
The Diamond Sutra
"Poison for the Heart", Kevin Solway
"The Hidden Teaching Beyond Yoga", Paul Brunton (A good
analysis of the way mind creates reality)
"The Way of Zen", Alan Watts (A good introduction to
Buddhism)

Gregory Shantz: How many of you would be leading philosophical lives if
you didn't have the validation of others; if no one had come
before, if you were totally alone. If no one read what you wrote,
or cared. What if you were the first?

David Quinn: That's a tough question to answer, as we are all
products of our environment. If I had grown up in the absence of
the kinds of influences I had - including those of past and
present philosophers - I would have been a different person and
one can only speculate how I would have turned out. But what we
know for sure was that at some point in history the very first
philosopher arose and he managed to cope somehow, enough to get
the whole spiritual tradition up and running.

Gregory Shantz: This first philosopher must have had a really hard
time, I think. Can you imagine how difficult it would have been
for him?

David Quinn: He must have been a great genius. And probably more
than one of them, considering that the teachings of a genius in
pre-agricultural days would have quickly disappeared into the
ether.

Gregory Shantz: One more question: Is imitating others valuable in
becoming a philosopher? Isn't imitation feminine? I am thinking
of the section in Kierkegaard's Journals & Papers (which I've
been reading lately) headed IMITATION, where he writes about the
value of imitating.

David Quinn: I reckon it is only natural for people who are
initially starting out to imitate their mentors. It's a necessary
stage on the way. It creates a framework for the student to begin
his progress. But hopefully, if the mentor and student are both
high-quality individuals, it will only be a transitory stage and
the student will eventually find his own path. After all, that is
the very purpose of mentoring - to turn students into mentors.

K949: I would like to point out that I see varying degrees of
insanity. From what I've read the most common way of going insane
represents some sort of explosion in the psyche- like a dam
bursting and wasting all in its path. Nietzsche seems to have
broken down rather than exploding - as if the cogs of his head
had worn down from abuse and neglect.

I have little evidence for my assumptions other than my
experiences in life where I feel most creative and strongest
which I use to as a reference to Nietzsche here. Perhaps only an
athlete could understand me...I assume most of you are semi-sessile
creatures(?).

To the point: one works oneself-- one's spirituality, one's sex--
up so highly, spiraling and deeply that it is this very intensity
that wears on the brain. The phrase "walking on a wire"
comes to mind, because it is very much like that. One wrong step
and the body falls to the dessert floor, shattering into
innummerous pieces like stained-glass exploding with the
intensity of a supernova.

Is my description obfuscating? Then join the military or force
yourself to run three hours a day for nine months in order to
understand. Or imagine your cock (or your man's cock) as a 17th
century cannon blasting off with the force of the nuclear warhead
that was trapped inside by some sloppy obstruction.

David Quinn: There is little doubt that if you overeach yourself,
you are bound to crash down to earth with a bang. It happened to
Weininger and it happened to Nietzsche.

Weininger was young (he killed himself at age 23) and his level
of intensity was almost superhuman. He achieved much in a short
space of time, but his down-going was very swift and dramatic. I
sometimes wonder what he could have achieved if he had been just
a little less intense. He certainly wouldn't have achieved as
much as did in his teens and early twenties, but he might have
survived the turbulence of those early years and matured into a
truly great thinker. He never managed to reach that high level of
equilibrium that comes with enlightenment.

In my view, it is just as important to know when to take the foot
off the pedal as it is to be intense. It's kind of balancing act
between really pushing yourself and taking it easy. The rest
periods are important if you want to have a long career as a
philosopher.

Matt Gregory: Nietzsche and Weininger may have sought wisdom, but
they were also hardcore into academic pursuits. I wonder if
that's not what drove them over the edge.

Gregory Shantz: It's funny that you don't hear about Eastern
philosophers having mental breakdowns. I know of at least two
Western philosophers who have suffered them.

David Quinn: Yes, it is interesting that Eastern philosophers tend
to zero in on the very root of existence and try to solve that
before they do anything else. Nietzsche and Weininger, on the
other hand, were all over the place and rarely applied their
minds to the fundamentals in any sustained way.

You can see the results of this in the traditional Eastern and
Western canons. In the East, the focus is very narrow and
concentrates almost exclusively on the subject of enlightenment.
The West is nowhere near as deep, but its purview is broader in
scope. You don't find the wide range of psychological and
sociological insights in the East that you find in the West. So
in many ways, the two complement each other very well.

The ideal for an individual living here and now would be to
combine the two. To acquire the deep understanding of
enlightenment as well as having a broad knowledge of psychology -
which is essentially what Kevin, Dan and myself have been doing
over the years. A synthesis of Eastern spirituality with Western
realism.

As far as the issue of taking rests are concerned, I fully agree
with Hakuin that the quickest and surest way to attain
enlightenment is by focusing deeply in a sustained manner on
trying to comprehend one's self-nature. There is really no other
way. If a person can do this without too much drama, then more
power to him. But if he can't - if he can only approach it in
spurts or else face the risk of burning out - then he needs to be
realistic. He needs to have an understanding of his strengths and
weakness and work from there.

By "rests", I'm not necessarily refering to the
wallowing in egotistical pleasure (although it can mean that). It
could just mean a case of taking the foot off the accelerator a
bit and cruising for a while. The momentum of your previous
efforts is still carrying you forward, but at the same time you
are saving precious energy. And then, when you are feeling more
refreshed, you can take off once more.

I know that Weininger would fundamentally disagree with me on
this point. He thought that any kind of let-up was inherently
immoral, that it shows that you are half-hearted in your
committment to truth. But I tend to see things differently. You
have to be realistic about who you are and what your level of
attainment is. If you drive a car full-bore all day and never
turn the engine off at night, the car will quickly burn itself
out through wear and tear. It is the same with the human body.
Push it hard, by all means, but look after it at the same time.

Also, if you do decide to wallow in egotistical pleasure, then
don't be afraid to enjoy it. Let the ego have what it wants.
Don't hold back at all. That way the ego will become satisfied
more quickly and you can return to the philosophical realm
without too much delay. If you go into these egotistical
wallowings trying not to enjoy yourself, then the underlying
craving for enjoyment will continue to simmer away and it could
come back to haunt you later in a more powerful manner. Best to
get it out of the system as soon as possible.

The only thing to look out for is possible long-term consequences
which could affect your life adversely - e.g. marriage, debt,
health problems, etc.

Matt Gregory: My theory about Weininger is that his artistic
productivity is what got him. A lot of times, when a person
finishes a creative work that he is pleased with and looks at it
afterwards and appreciates it, it seems to him to be a greater
work than it really is. Even if he were given a better work to
compare it to and he acknowledged that it was better, I think he
would still favor his own with an artistic justification. I'm not
really sure why this occurs, but it seems to me to go beyond
simply knowing that he made it and enjoying that fact. It's
almost as if the ego were looking at itself and appreciating its
own reflection on a subliminal level.

Another danger that occurs with creative activity happens when
you feel like you've done something that no one else has done
before. This is closely related to the previous point and may
even explain in itself the bloated sense of worth of the work. I
don't think this is all that bad, but when the person gets
confirmation from society that it's something no one has ever
seen before and advances the whole field up a notch, then I think
it gets to be really dangerous for the artist. First, the work
becomes like a sacred object, and more importantly, the artist
feels more powerful than he really is, and I think this leads to
a manic-depressive type of state. Now the artist feels he can do
anything at all, including fix all the outstanding problems in
his field (especially something technical like science), which is
within the realm of possibility, but, unfortunately, he usually
wants to fix them all simultaneously, which leads to impatience
and mania.

I think this is what happened to Weininger. I'm sure he felt Sex
and Character was a complete success, and I think it led him to
overestimate his productive abilities. Some of the things in his
notebook (such as the idea of categorizing every existing thing
into its metaphysical counterpart) and things that were written
about him afterwards (saying to Freud, "I'd rather write ten
more books"; not that it was unreasonable for him to reject
an empirical study of the sexes, but just going by the fact that
he was thinking of writing so many books ahead of time) indicate
to me that he did fall into this trap.

Of course, we'll never really know, but that's just my personal
theory.

A=A points to the logical capacity of the human
mind, the logical property of identity. A not= notA is
really the other side of the same coin - contrast or difference.
That is to say, a given thing conforms to the definition of that
thing and a different thing does not conform to that definition.
The law of identity (and the law of difference) is the basis for
the "conceptuability" of a concept. (As Otto Weininger
says: It is constitutive for conceivability. A=A
founds a kingdom [of existence] ). Without a logical
capacity a person literally could not experience a thing.
He could not know that a given thing exists in the present, much
less recall that something existed in the past. Bob Willis

I accept the fact that there have been no great
female geniuses. I think that, with the passage of much time,
there will be such geniuses but, by that time, the genders will
not be as distinguishable as they are now or they will not be
distinguishable at all. There will be no "female geniuses"
because there will be no females.

The very idea of a female genius is preposterous. That concept is
not unlike the idea of a woman writer. I would rather be dead
than to ever be considered a "woman writer" and, if a
woman writes, she is automatically considered to be a woman
writer. "Woman writers" write about issues that concern
women and most issues that concern women are resolutely related
to their gender.

I find that to be disgusting. There are no writers who are known
as "man writers." A man can write anything about
anything. That is what I want, if not for myself, then, for some
future writer who happens to be technically female. I have no
desire to write about menopause or menstrual cramps or childbirth
or breast cancer or my husband. Why must one who is technically
female be presumed to have a husband or some other male figure
lurking in the background about whom "she" must write
-- and, if she does not, then, why is the opposite presumed?
"She hates her own gender. She must be a Lesbian. She is an
'Uncle Tom. She has forsaken her sex?"

No man is ever accused of forsaking his sex because he chooses
not to write about his penis or about prostate cancer or his wife.
He is not accused of being homosexual merely because he does not
have a wife or a girlfriend.

I don't want to be "treated" equally. I don't want to
be "treated" condescendingly as a "woman writer."
I don't want -- and will not accept -- the idea that "one
must remember" that women have been ingrained with
inferiority -- not in relation to myself; not in relation to any
human being who may come along in the future who happens to be
born "technically female" but has the desire to write
and to think as a philosopher.

The onus that well-intentioned but ignorant men of the Twenty-First
Century put on women is every bit as rigid and as sexist as that
of well-intentioned but ignorant men of the Eighteenth Century

Female acquiescence to such ignorance is acquiescence to slavery.

In all circumstances, the will of the slave is as culpable as the
will of the master. Until the chain of dependency is broken from
both sides, nothing will change. Marsha Faizi

In the stream of experience some thoughts are
definite and clear, others are fuzzy and uncertain. Some
memories are sketchy, others are well defined. The
possibility of half defined thoughts does not really detract from
the fact that other thoughts can be fully formed and that A=A (or
more accurately, what A=A points to) is valid.

There are a good many examples of these half
thoughts - deja vu, "the name of that song is on the tip of
my tongue", "I've heard that word before, but I can't
recall what it means", "is that a well camouflaged
insect or a leaf?", the reaction time between seeing
something and recognizing it, brain farts, unclear childhood
memories, etc., etc. Without "A=A" your world
would be just one great scrambled mess of the above sort of half
thoughts, confusion and incoherent vagueness (if not worse). Bob Willis

I value Truth because I want to lead a good
life. To lead a good life, I have to do what's right. To be able
to do what's right is to also know what is wrong. Right and wrong
revolve around what is held to be True (at least for those who
think).

To each is given the choice to uphold the torch of Truth, or so
we would like to think, but all we can know for certain is
whether or not we choose to do so. Bryan McGilly

WolfsonJakk: Why do you think these young people latch onto
the "woman" issue rather than the larger enlightenment
issue? They seem to look up to you, perhaps you could guide them
into a deeper understanding of your stance on femininity and its'
relation to the Absolute. I believe it would go a long way in
moving them away from this mere topical understanding of
something I seriously doubt they have much experince with.

Dan Rowden: I agree with what you're saying, but it's a process and
one which people tend to engage emotionally in the first instance.
The feminine dimension of mind and its relationship to philosophy
and enlightenment tends to be a matter that is, initially, too
abstract for people to deal with. Now, that might seem odd given
that they're people supposedly interested in philosophy and
abstract issues, but the whole "Woman" thing is so
powerfully inbued with emotion and attachment that I have found
it to be a dynamic unto itself and one which has to be approached
differently than most philosophic matters.

However, even the way people engage the issue, which often begins
with an "analysis" of women and their relationship to
them, has important elements in that it provides a window into
our own minds and our attachment to "Woman". So, as
unedifying as it sometimes seems, there's nevertheless some merit
in these sorts of "discussions".

It's not exactly optimal, but the nature of this particular beast
means that this is where most people start in terms of their
engagement with those more abstract, and ultimately more
philosophically significant, matters concerning mind and its
feminine - and masculine - dimensions.

John
Stafford: I have no problem
considering that there is a boundary to the brain just as there
is a limit to our influence in the universe. The boundary-less
quality, in my view, is the place where our brain (and every
other cell) meets the universe at the quantum level where time is
symmetric, and therefore quite confounding to imagine, but still
a boundary.

David Quinn: It should be noted that the question of whether
boundaries really exist in Nature is a logical question
and has nothing whatsoever to do with physics. Accordingly, the
answer to it would necessarily apply to all things in
Nature, no matter what they are. I'm afraid that the sub-atomic
realm has no special status in this regard.

At bottom, the issue is a very black and white one. Things are either
separate from one another or they're not. No other
alternative is possible. There is ultimately no such thing as a
partial separation, for example.

If things were truly separate from one another, then there would
be no way they could influence each other. For example, if a
tennis ball was truly separate from the rest of the world, then
there is no way it could bounce off the ground. Similarly, if the
brain was truly separate from the rest of Nature, then
consciousness of the rest of Nature would be impossible.

Just the fact that things are influencing each other all the time
is evidence (although not proof) that the separation between
things is not real. Because things are not truly separate from
one another, any boundary which marks where one thing ends and
another begins is purely a product of our own imaginations. For
example, the boundary marking the point when a sapling ceases to
be a sapling and becomes a shrub is obviously artificial.

Since there is no real beginning or end to anything, the whole
notion of existence is completely undermined. Only Nature is
real; all else is unreal.

Jeff
Conrad: What makes
music hangout in the brain, especially annoying/simple music?

I got curious about this while trying to decide why beings find
music likable. I had compared it in my mind to something that
just "felt good" to the nerves of the inner ear, like
scratching an itch, but I don't play back, in my mind, the
pleasure of scratching an itch or the rhythm of the scratching.
Yet, I'll be minding my own business when I suddenly realize the
"I Dream of Jeannie" theme is coming out of my mouth
and I haven't seen the show in over a decade. I mainly listen to
Jazz and Zappa (occasionally classical when I'm trapped into
listening to a radio) and part of the benefits of such music is
that it is unlikely to be hummed without at least some conscious
effort to remember all of the parts. But, the "Flintstones"
comes rolling on out for hours before I've realized it and I
couldn't swear that I've ever seen the Flintstones as an adult.
Has anyone a good theory or, better yet, some 100% truth on the
topic?

Leo Bartoli: No great mystery, to recall such a
theme is to relive the pleasurable feelings experienced at that
original time,
often coincident with a period in the early years in which one
was less encumbered by responsibility and undisturbed by his
relative unconsciousness.

Jeff Conrad: I guess my post was not very clear. I'm
more curious about the "recording and playing back" of
music by the mind. Visual art, literature and film don't play
back in the mind like music does. If I hear a song for the first
time on the way to work and hum it throughout the day, it doesn't
make sense that I would be associating pleasurable feelings with
it since I heard it while stuck in traffic, very encumbered
by responsibility, and hugely disturbed by my relative
consciousness.

The mind seems to have its own set of rules when it comes to
recalling music. The encoding and decoding processes are much
more efficient with music than with dialog or written language
and the information seems to linger around forever. Is there a truth
that applies to this? There is a lot of overlap of frequencies
between brainwaves and music. Perhaps the brain is already
familiar with these frequencies and therefore has no problems
managing and storing them.

Irena: And [mind] seems to be rather specific
about the other senses too like taste

and smells
and sights
and touch

How much appocrypa is there about the sense of smell bringing
back a childhood memory? Ok you can't hum that but its still of
the nostaligia/recall type of recall. i know people who get a
phrase caught in their brain and find for a while they are
repeating and repeating it. no associated melody. pick up milk,
pick up milk, pick up milk.

Could be music has rythym and so do we - the drum beat of the
heart.

Dan Rowden: Simple beats and rhythms more readily
create pathways of memory and emotional connection in the brain.

I don't think there's any 100% truth regarding the reasons
certain forms of music resonate and return to us at various
times, mostly because these are empirical questions; however, the
essential reason we enjoy music is certain: it is a form of
aesthetic attachment that enlivens the ego, makes us feel happy,
content, powerful or even sad and melancholy (which is yet
another way to enliven the ego).

Why certain forms of music have these effects more than others
probably comes down to matters of mental disposition (i.e. the
way our minds work). But most of us have at least some degree of
natural attachment to simple beat music because of the primal
elements of mind that remain in us.

Still, "I Dream of Jeannie" and "The Flintstones"
is a bit of worry.........

Disclaimer:
editorial opinions expressed in this publication are
those of its authors and do not, necessarily, reflect the
views of subscribers to Genius-L or Genius Forum. Dialogues adapted from Genius-L and Genius
Forum have been edited for the purpose of brevity and clarity.
Certain spelling mistakes and typographical errors have been corrected
to preserve meaning.